


santa baby

by chuckalicious



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bottom Stanley Uris, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Canon Gay Relationship, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Special, Cute Ending, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gay Character, Gay Richie Tozier, Gay Stanley Uris, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Platonic Kissing, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Flirts, Sad Stanley Uris, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Dancing, Slow Romance, Soft Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris is a Mess, Surprise Kissing, Top Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24047254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuckalicious/pseuds/chuckalicious
Summary: every year the losers club hosts a secret santa christmas party. richie is stanley's secret santa this year.
Relationships: Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. december twelfth

richie tozier walks through the busy shopping mall with his brows furrowed in confusion, brushing past crowds upon crowds of shoppers darting through the halls, trying to find last-minute christmas gifts for their significant others and family members. the last time he went shopping at a mall, or any big store for that matter, he got lost and couldn't find his parents for almost an hour and a half.

why are there so many damn stores in here? he wonders to himself as he passes about ten different shopping outlets on one side of the hall. his mouth is pretty much hung open in awe at just how many places there are in here - the hot topic right next to the victoria's secret, the beauty store next to the food court in the middle of the mall. it's ginormous in here, really, and he feels like he's dreaming, but he can't stop in the middle of the area to pinch himself, snap himself out of whatever trance he must be in, because he has to hurry up and get to the store he's been looking for this whole time.

then, after approximately fifteen minutes of looking through just the bottom floor of the mall, he finds it; the pet store. he could've gone to some random, plain one in the middle of town, but he knows the one in the mall has the best products. so, he rushes in there, apologizes to the a little boy and his small family that he runs right into, and then scurries to the front counter, where a short old woman is working. she's probably in her late sixties or seventies, with a touch of root color in her pixie-short hair and a couple of wrinkles in her pale skin. he pushes his glasses up on his nose and lays his hands down on the counter, and the lady peers up at him through her own glasses. "how can i help you?" she asks with a smile, and she sounds sweet enough to have a conversation with.

"okay, so," he starts to say, and then he clears his throat. "my friends and i all do this secret santa thing every year, where, y'know - oh, of course you know what that is, nevermind - but anyway, i, uh, i got my best friend and i need to go all out this year, like do this twelve days of christmas thing, cause i want him to believe that it isn't me but his boyfriend instead, so i just need something cute that has to deal with birds," he explains, and when he looks back at the woman (he was looking at the floor the entire time, trying to form words), she's smiling at him, still.

she points to the back of the store, he can see a sign that says bird supplies and he thanks her immediately and goes to the back of the store, careful not to run into any more shit along the way. he stumbles upon a fluffy stuffed bird, he's not sure what kind but it's so cute, and he picks one up and holds it in both of his hands, because it's pretty large. he thinks it's perfect, so he goes back to the checkout counter and let's the old lady ring it up. "sixteen-fifty," she tells him, waits patiently for him to take the money out of his wallet and hand it over. she doesn't even have time to bag it before richie is hurrying out of the shop with it in his arms.

"thank you, happy holidays, keep the change!" he exclaims as he opens the door and rushes out into the busy mall. he would go look at more stores, but he needs to get home and put it in a bag and write stanley's name on it. maybe not write it, since he would be able to perceive that it's richie's handwriting, but type it instead, like all the losers do when they give their person their present.

and that's exactly what he does when he drives home, with the stuffed bird buckled in to the passenger seat and his heart full when he notices a text message from this special boy on his phone as he goes to change the music playing on his playlist.

-

the raven-haired boy watches with knowing eyes when stanley sees the present that's just sitting underneath his christmas tree. he doesn't know how it got there without him noticing or which one of the friend group put it there, but he doesn't have time to wonder because he's sitting down on the carpet to open it. all of his friends are chatting amongst themselves, except for richie, who's just sitting on the couch, gazing at him. eddie is next to him, and he elbows him when he notices that he's practically got hearts in his eyes. he turns his head to look at the brunet and he shakes his head, and then shifts back to look at the curly-haired boy, who gasps when he takes out the gift and sees the bird.

"which one of you did this?" he asks, with a visible pout evident on his pretty pink lips. richie has to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from grinning at him, and thankfully he doesn't catch his gaze, because he gets interrupted by max, the stupid boy that stole everything away from richie just like that. stanley shrieks as max places his cold fingers on the sides of his face and presses a smacking kiss to his mouth.

richie loses that grin as fast as it came, and he crosses his arms over his chest and sighs quietly while stan giggles and smiles at his boyfriend. why can't he do that to him? why can't he make stan smile like that?

the blond looks from the stuffed animal back up to max, and he has an eyebrow quirked, but he doesn't say anything about it. their rule is that you can't say who you think it is until you're either absolutely sure or until after all the gifts are distributed and opened. it's quite obvious he thinks it's max, but he can never be too sure. last time it was max, he only got him one thing and that was on christmas day, so he's a bit confused.

he's in that train of thought again when his boyfriend presses his nose into the side of stanley's face, muttering something to him that nobody else can hear. richie doesn't miss the appearance of veins in max's hand, that must be gripping onto stan's arm, and the curly-haired boy loses his hint of a smile, looks back at him and then puts the present back in the bag and leaves it under the tree where it originally was. he gets up and follows max out of the room, and his arm is still being held and richie rolls his eyes at how strict this asshole is. what's so rewarding about ordering someone around? he'll never understand why stanley is with someone like that or why he lets him do shit like that, especially around his friends.

"imagine being that much of a dick," he murmurs to eddie next to him, motions toward the other room where there's muffled yelling and taunts between the not-so-perfect couple.

eddie nods, shifts in his boyfriend, bill's, lap so he can swing his legs sideways and look at richie. he winces when they all hear some type of crashing noise a couple minutes later, and the raven-haired boy gets up as fast as he can and pads down the hallway to the room that his best friend is in. max and stan are standing so close they could just about jump on each other at this point, and richie knocks on the already open door to get their attention. stanley flinches as max turns his head rapidly to look at the boy in the doorway, and he scrunches his nose. "what?" he asks, snobby, like a mean old person talking to a little kid.

"we're about to start a movie," richie replies, just as snobby as max, just to make fun of him a bit. "how about you guys come watch instead of argue while your friends are here?"

the curly-haired boy is crying, he realizes, and he gives richie a little smile when max moves to the opposite side of the room and grabs his coat. he asks where max is going only to get the 'work' reply once again, which he hears about a million times every time he comes to stan's house and gets in an argument with him. he leaves the room and the house entirely with no other words, just slams the front door and leaves everyone in a shocked silence for a minute or two. "i'm sorry," stan sniffles, inhales shakily and goes to rub at his teary eyes. richie shakes his head, then moves forward a bit to tangle their fingers together, so soft stan can barely feel it compared to how max holds his hand. "this is fucking stupid, i-i'm sorry," he manages to let out a sad little laugh, and richie chuckles along as he leads him back out of the room and into the living room, where all his friends are back into conversations. they don't look at him and that's a good thing, and if richie has his arm wrapped around stanley's shoulder as he cuddles into that cute bird he got him, they won't mention a thing to anybody.

richie is going to make this boy have the best christmas of his entire life. he has his heart set on it.


	2. december thirteenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a showstopping performance by a pair of losers

"hey, stan?" richie calls out to the boy that's in the closet of the backstage room. he's standing in front of one of the full-length mirrors along the pale gray wall, pulling his santa hat off and setting it down gently on top of one of the tables. his best friend steps out of the closet and looks at him with a smile on his face as he asks what richie needs. "can you do my hair, please?" he turns to pout at the curly-haired boy, who nods immediately and goes behind the chair to style his hair.

he snaps an extra ponytail around his wrist, that he always keeps in case somebody needs one, because he's that generous, and takes richie's hairbrush out of his backpack so he can comb through his hair. richie continues to look in the mirror with a smile on his face as he watches stan bite his bottom lip in concentration, and they meet eyes in the mirror for a couple of seconds. "what?" stanley asks, sheepishly, pulls his hair up gently to bring it into a ponytail shape. richie shakes his head, just admiring the pout on his cute face while he forms a loose bun at the back of his head. if he was rude enough, he would've tugged at his hair to get him to stop grinning at him and not telling him why he's so happy, but he won't. he instead moves to be in front of richie and takes some of his baby hairs out from where they were tucked behind his ears, brings them to the sides of his face and makes sure they look okay. "looks good, rich," he smiles at him while he steps away, and then he goes back to the closet to sort through the hideous costumes from previous plays and musicals that have gone on here at the university of maine, where stanley, richie, ben, and bill all study.

"thank you, bub," richie replies, doesn't even need to look at his hair because he knows stanley made it look good. he also doesn't miss the smile on stan's lips when he says that, and he hurries to hide the present for today underneath the tiny christmas tree in the corner of the green room without his friend seeing it. he hopes he doesn't find out its him, even though the chances are high because they're the only two in the room. he's a bit late on all of this, as bill and ben are already backstage waiting for him, so he rushes to get his santa sweater on and then he turns to look at the boy. "are you ready for our amazing performance, staniel?" he asks, holds his hand out in a come here gesture and laughs when stanley rolls his eyes but grabs onto his hand anyway.

together, they scurry to the backstage area, behind the curtain, and run right into bill and ben. they let out breaths of relief when they see the two, and, after ben smacks the both of them on the arms and scolds at them for being so late, they hear the announcer start speaking, booming through the speakers around the place. "hello and thank you for coming to UOM's annual holiday talent show!" the man exclaims, and the four of them can hear people clapping and cheering like they're at a musician's concert or something. "our first guests are a spectacular group of boys that have been working their bottoms off to come up with this performance for you. so, without further ado," he says, and they can picture him looking at the paper with their names on it. richie looks over at ben, who, it should be mentioned, joined track in high school and lost a hell of a lot of weight, and gets tossed two microphones, one for him and one for stanley. the other two already have their microphones in their hands. "ben hanscom, richie tozier, stanley uris, and bill denbrough!" the middle-aged man announces, and they file out in that order to the big stage. richie can tell stan is about to have a literal heart attack he's so nervous, and he reaches over to squeeze his hand while everybody is clapping for them.

bill blushes when he hears eddie call out his name in the crowd, and he looks at his friends and nods, telling them to cue the music. their mixtape is in the cd player, the one bill spent hours making and mixing different christmas songs together on. ben bends down to hit play on the boombox, and jingle bell rock starts to play. they start doing the dance from mean girls and everyone starts laughing and clapping along to the beat. all of a sudden the song switches to last christmas, and they slow down their dance moves and stanley brings his microphone up to sing along. despite how funny this whole dance routine is, stanley isn't that terrible of a singer. richie almost has to stop in the middle of him slow dancing with bill just to listen to him. that idiot has a beautiful voice.

the song changes once again after the chorus, and it's some christmas rap song, which is the point where richie finally gets his moment of fame. he spits bars and stanley whistles at him from behind him where he's doing some random hip-hop type dance moves. they do two more songs and then they all crowd together and all do different poses toward the audience of seated people. a lot of people stand up and start cheering and clapping once again, just like they did when they first came out there five minutes ago. they thank everyone and then rush back into the green room to change out of their outfits and into some regular clothes. they can hear the announcer start speaking again, introducing somebody else, and there's now a couple more college students back here with them, changing into their festive holiday items and clothing before they go out on stage and sweat all their makeup off.

speaking of makeup, after the four of them change out of their sweaters and back into some regular sweatshirts and t-shirts, stanley takes makeup removers out of his backpack and makes a sad attempt to get the red and green, sparkly highlighter off his face without looking in a mirror. all the mirrors are taken up by a bunch of girls doing their makeup for their performance, so richie steals the wipe from him and holds his face with one hand while he wipes the highlight off with the other. he frowns a little at the red mark on his cheek, the shape of a hand, and stanley, who's eyes are closed, knows he's looking right at it. "i was expecting max to come tonight," he mutters to richie, who just quirks his eyebrows at him. "i've been asking him to come to this since we started rehearsing."

once he has the majority of the makeup off of the boy's face, he throws the glittery mess of a wipe in the trash can nearby and then shakes his head at him. "you know he's probably at 'work' again," he sighs, at the same time stanley does, and they both break out in a fit of giggles. when their laughter has died down to just a few chuckles and hums here and there, richie steps toward the door. "i'm gonna go look around for any of the losers in the audience," he tells him, smiles a little. "and i think i saw something with your name on it over there," he points toward the christmas tree and tries to hide the secretive grin on his face, then he disappears out of the room.

stanley isn't going to say whether or not he almost cries when he opens the small box and sees the pretty bird bracelet inside. he doesn't know if it's because it's so cute or if it's because this proves to him that max isn't his secret santa. and he also isn't going to say whether or not he loved when richie was caressing his face earlier. he doesn't want to come to terms with his whatever relationship he has with his boyfriends, whether it's toxic or not.

whoever is giving him these gifts, he's probably going to fall in love with them. nobody has ever done something this nice for him in his whole life. he feels as if he's having the best christmas of his entire life so far. hopefully it doesn't go to shit.


	3. december fourteenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a jealous boyfriend and a hero

richie wakes up late in the afternoon to the sound of a text message dinging out of his phone. he reaches over and grabs it from where it lays under his pillow, and he squints his half-lidded eyes open to read the text he's received.

it's from stanley, and he smiles at the little smiley face he has after his name and reads the texts message with blurry eyes. hey you!!!!! it reads. i'm not gonna b done with classes until 4 but i left my chem hw in my house so can u quick run over there and grab it for me?? i'll pay for ur gas $ :)

and of course he swings right out of bed and unplugs his phone from the charger so he can trudge into the bathroom and flip the light switch on. he takes his toothbrush from it's holder on the edge of the sink counter and squirts some toothpaste on it before he waters it down and sticks it in his mouth. he begins brushing his teeth as he holds his phone in one of his bony hands and begins to type out his reply.

shall i bring ur textbooks right to u, professor? or do you want to come to my car btwn lit & chem??

and stanley replies while richie's slipping his only clean pair of sweatpants on and sliding a wrinkly t-shirt over his head. lol. i'll come to ur car:)) thanks rich keys under the mat! text me when ur oyw

he slips his vans on his feet and hurries out the door with an imagine of stanley in his head, which isn't a surprise because he's all he really thinks about. he has a poorly wrapped box under his arm, that he spent all of the previous night wrapping, and he knows stanley is probably going to realize he's his secret santa. who else would just go in his house while he's at his classes? unless his secret santa was a creepy stalker or something.

-

upon entering the house, richie smiles at the scent of vanilla and campfire, from his many air fresheners spotted around the house. he sets the present down underneath the christmas tree, with the pretty, sparkly ornaments and the cool white lights spread around it, and then he stands back up from his squatting position and pads to the bedroom with attentive eyes, looking for the homework. he scans the room twice or three times and then he catches it out of the corner of his eye, on his desk right in front of the open window. he shakes his head at his foolishness and brushes the show off his windowsill before shutting the window and locking it closed. he grabs the homework and the chemistry textbook resting underneath the paper and carries it out of the house, after making sure all the windows are closed and the door is locked when he leaves. then he gets in his car and sets his things down on the passenger seat, just so he won't ruin them or anything.

once he turns the corner and gets to the parking lot of the university, he parks his car and turns off the music that's playing, some old christmas song that richie hummed along to the entire drive to the building. he leaves the engine on, so he can keep the heat on and stay warm, and brings his phone out of his pocket and sends a text message to his best friend. i'm here bitch. better hurry up b4 i just drive away:)

u love me. u wouldn't

hurry the fuck up

after he sets his phone down in his lap, he rubs at his face to make sure he does have anything on it, like, perhaps, a blush or something, from that text he'd just received. he smiles when he sees stanley, without his coat on or anything, sprinting out of the building with a determined look on his face. richie steps out if his car and laughs when stanley almost slips on the ice and crashes into his arms. he wraps his arms around him with a content hum and makes sure the papers in his hands aren't going to be smushed by the boy's body, and then he switches them to his right hand so he can brush his unoccupied one along his bare arms. "by gee, stan-man, you're gonna get pneumonia!" he exclaims, and stanley gives him a look because he's literally wearing the exact same thing; just a t-shirt.

despite the roll of his eyes, the curly-haired boy looks up at richie (he's a couple inches shorter, he hates it) and smiles shyly. "thank you, rich," he says, humbly. he still has his arms around his friend, and he doesn't bother to pull away in any form. "don't you have classes today?" he asks, just because he's curious.

the raven-haired boy nods. "i have la clase de español in about..." he stops to check his phone, that reads 1:16pm, then he looks back at the boy with a smile on his face. "fifteen minutes. what d'you say i walk you to class and then i go to mine?" be asks.

"sure," he nods, and his curls bounce on top of his head a little. he loosens his grip on richie and drops his arms down, and richie opens the door and grabs his heavy backpack from the backseat of his car. when he turns around, he reaches his hand over and links their pinkies together, which stanley's lips quirk up at just the tiniest bit.

they're walking together with pinkies linked and homework in their hands and on their backs when all of a sudden somebody calls out to them. "what're you doing with my boyfriend, bro?" they, or rather, he, asks, and stanley flinches a little at the voice.

richie, however, doesn't flinch. he keeps on walking along, stan at his side, close to him because he's a little scared, until something grips onto his backpack strap and tugs at it, and he almost flops over onto the pavement of the parking lot. "what the fuck?" he scoffs as he regains his balance, thanks to the boy next to him that had pulled on his arm to keep him up. he turns toward max, who's looking at him with a glare so evil it almost burns into his face, like a laser pointing right at his eye. "get your hands off me, you fuckface."

"how about you get your hands off my bitch first, and then i'll think about it," he replies, snobby. he motions over to stanley, who looks close to tears already. "c'mon, just give him back and i'll leave you alone."

after max puts his hands back on richie, attempts to push him away from his boyfriend, richie reaches out and grabs onto his hoodie and tugs him forward, so close he can smell the alcohol on his breath. "don't you ever refer to him as your 'bitch'," he shakes his head, grimaces. "what the hell is wrong with you? why would i let you see him when you're nothing but an asshole to him?"

max only rolls his eyes, peers at a nervous stanley out of the corner of his eye and then attempts to stand taller and spits right in richie's face. he laughs as richie blinks the saliva out of his eye, but then stops when he gets whacked right across the jaw, with richie's bony, yet still muscular, hand. he gasps, and when they hear stanley start to cry, richie pushes him away and goes to comfort him instead.

"get the fuck out of here before i hit you harder," richie mutters to the man across from them, flips him the bird as stanley buries his rosy face in his chest and wraps his arms around him. when he finally leaves, he turns to stanley and leans down to be his height, careful not to get any snow on his shoes or the knees of his jeans. "stan," he coos softly, quietly, so that nobody walking in the parking lot can hear him. he frowns at the tears streaming down the boy's face, watches his shaky breaths come out in clouds of condensation, and he looks around his face, his arms and his wrists to check for any marks. "did he get his hands on you at all?" he asks, frantic, puts his hands on his shoulders.

stanley shakes his head, sniffles and starts to wipe the cascading, wet tears off his face. "i'm fine," he tells him, tries to slow down his breaths.

the taller boy shakes his head, as well, stands back up so he can bring him back into a hug. "i'm gonna kill him, i swear," he murmurs into his ear, and he hears stanley giggle a bit and his heart races. "we should get to class but i'll find you after and we can go to eat or something, yeah?" he suggests, smile, like he's hopeful that stanley is going to say yes.

and stanley does say yes, silently, with a nod of his head and yet another sniffle. he makes sure he's okay, as richie does, as well, and then he links their pinkies together again and starts to walk to the school. he's freezing, and if he would go home now and open the present resting under his tree, he would totally be able to wear the christmas sweater full of birds and be warm as ever. he does open it right before they go out to eat, while richie is using the bathroom, and when he comes out and sees him he tries not to smile at how cute he looks in it. he knows he was going to look cute, that's why he picked that one out. stanley looks cute in anything and everything, though.


	4. december fifteenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> breakups hurt.

there's about a million knocks on the front door of richie's house, and it doesn't even stop when richie half-consciously pads into the living room and says that he's coming to the door. he's about to yell, say like shut the fuck up or something, but he can't even form words when he opens the door and a crying stanley is standing there with a bloody nose and bruised, bloody knuckles.

he's going to say something but then he stops himself once again because stanley brushes past him and into the house, pacing around the wooden floors and muttering things to himself. he turns around after he shuts the door and looks at the boy, and he asks him what's wrong but he gets ignored.

stanley doesn't even respond until richie comes up to him and stops him from pacing any more, grabs onto his arms and asks what's wrong again.

that's when he breaks down, goes to bury his face in richie's chest but he stops himself because he doesn't want to get him all bloody, too. "i just got home from my classes early a-and max told me he was gonna be at my house wh-when i got home so i was expecting him to be there," he inhales shakily, sniffling. "but when i got home, h-he was in my bed with some girl," he sobs out.

richie keeps him in place before he can fall to his knees and just start bawling, and he cups his sticky, tear-streaked cheeks in his hands and looks him in his teary eyes. "why're you covered in blood, stan?" he asks, brows drawn together in worry.

"'cause i-i called him out and then he punched me in the face," he hiccups, covers his face with his beat-up hands. "i got mad a-and punched a whole in the wall and h-he started getting all his stuff that he'd always kept there s-so i left a-and now i'm here," he continues to pace up and down the room, and he looks down at his shirt and groans. "oh my god, i'm wearing his fucking shirt."

he goes to take it off but richie grabs both of his hands and starts walking him to his bathroom down the hallway. there's no noise in the house other than his sniffles and his occasional whimpers, until they get in the room and richie grabs a wash cloth from the closet and wets it down underneath the sink. he pats his hands down on the open counter-space, motioning for him to sit down there, and he obliges, doesn't even bother to protest when richie starts wiping the blood off his face. "fuck max," richie grumbles underneath his breath, pinches the top of stanley's nose to stop the bleeding and apologizes softly when the boy winces. "why in the ever-loving fuck would he do this to you?"

stanley shrugs, avoids looking at richie all together. "he said he w-wanted to get payback on me for holding hands with you yesterday," he murmurs, breathes through his mouth as his nose is occupied.

"but it wasn't even close to fucking someone else in your bed," he replies, and stanley can now say that he's seen someone's eyebrows look angry; the pointy, tilted brows that little kids always sketch on their papers when they're trying to make somebody look mad. he takes the cloth away from the boy's face and goes to wipe the bloody mess off of his hands, as well, which also makes stan wince. "what a dickhead. next time i see him i'll get payback on him. i'll fucking kill him if that would even be enough."

"don't," the crying boy shakes his head at him, sniffles. he finally looks over and richie is still looking at his bruised hands, a scowl on his face. he hiccups, and this is the first time he actually disagrees with the man in front of him. "richie, c'mon, that'll only make things worse. he'll go after you, a-and me again, a-a-and our friends."

richie sighs, sets the wet rag aside and cups his cold, red cheeks in his hands. "i know," he nods, eyebrows lifting only the tiniest bit. he doesn't want to be angry now, all he wants to do is comfort this poor boy. he caresses his cheekbone with his thumb, just as stanley closes his eyes and more tears start to tumble down his cheeks. "i'm so sorry, stanley. you know i'm here for you, right?" he asks. "i'll always be here for you, no matter what."

stanley just nods, and he gets off the counter so he can look up at richie and go and hug him. richie wraps his arms around him and squeezes him tight, the way he deserves to be hugged, and he inhales the scent of his curls while he buries his face on the top of his head. he's bawling, and his hands are shaking as they grip onto his shirt and richie wishes he could reverse this whole situation and instead be the heartbroken one. although his heart is starting to shatter just from hearing this kid's cries into his chest.

"give me your shirt," he murmurs into his hair, and stanley pulls away and slips his shirt off his head while richie moves to his closet and grabs a hoodie. they exchange the clothes and then richie grabs his hand and drags him into the living room, where he finds his lighter and picks it up, and then he throws the ugly shirt in one of the garbage cans around the house and sets it out on his porch. stanley watches with an open mouth as he lights the thing on fire and then stands there and watches it burn.

stan turns toward the boy and he wraps his arms around him, hugging him like he's never been hugged in his entire life. "i love you," he mumbles into his chest.

richie forgets to give him his present for the day, because they cuddle on the couch the rest of the night, watching scary movies to get stanley's mind off of that stupid, stupid boyfriend he never should've even talked to.


	5. december sixteenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cuddles & confessions

stanley crawls back into bed with a sniffle, pulling the covers up over his body like they had been just a couple minutes ago. he had gotten a splitting headache from crying for so long and woke up in the middle of the night feeling like his head was going to explode, so he went in the kitchen and fumbled through the pantry until he found the ibuprofen, and then he just got a cup of cold water from the sink and took the pills. and it's not just his head that hurts, it's everything, especially his aching heart.

someone's arms wrap around his waist and he can't help but whimper quietly, loving the warmth and the comfort but hating how he can't even cuddle with his best friend without thinking about max. stupid max and his stupid head for thinking he should've been with him at all.

"you okay?" richie asks, voice full of sleep. that voice could make him fall asleep as if it's a lullaby, deep and worried. he's always worried about stan. he always will be.

the curly-haired boy shrugs, sniffles again even though he's been trying to stop crying. he doesn't want anyone to see him like this, he feels so vulnerable.

the older boy pulls him closer, so they're chest to chest, and he rubs his back with one hand and tangles his fingers in his unruly curls with the other. he sighs, links their legs together under the sheets. "i hate it when you cry," he mutters. "it makes me sad."

stan swallows audibly and runs his fingers along the crease lines of richie's t-shirt, trying to focus on something else. "sorry," he sighs, sniffles. "i wasted almost two years of my life," he speaks up in the deafening silence. "so much for a nice christmas."

richie shakes his head and stanley watches a strand of his hair fall in his face, which he reaches his hand up and brushes off his forehead. "i don't think so," he tells him, and then he opens his eyes a little to peek at his pretty face. "are you a virgin?" he asks.

the boy furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth to reply but nothing comes out. "huh?" he sniffles.

"if you are, you still have something left that doesn't have to do with that bitch," he twists his mouth at the thought of the prick that hurt his boy's heart.

stanley hesitates, then nods. "he said i-i didn't have a good enough body," he shrugs, and he can feel richie's arms tighten around him, like a security blanket. "we tried but i got scared and backed out."

richie practically growls, and he looks his best friend up and down even though he can't see anything but his chest and up, and he shakes his head. "you have a beautiful body," he tells him, and he blushes but he brushes it off and acts like his face isn't burning up as he says it. "i mean, jesus, even when we were teenagers and we used to go swimming and shit, i couldn't keep my eyes off you."

he can feel the tears building up in his eyes once again, and he wills them away but his bottom lip starts to tremble and soon he's crying again. he hiccups, buries his face in richie's chest and just lets everything out. richie hugs him so tight he almost suffocates, and he just whispers little things in his ears until they both fall asleep, tangled up in each other like they've been dating forever.

-

while stanley is in the shower, getting ready to go to his classes, richie scurries all throughout the house trying to find the gift bag he had hidden the other day when stanley had first come over, and he finally finds it at the top of his closet, where nobody but him can reach. he hurries and sets the package of bird bookmarks (the ones that stick out and rest on top of the pages when you close the book) in the bag and then sneaks it in the boy's open backpack, making sure it won't spill or anything, and zips it back up. then, he grabs the wrapped box with the bird feeder in it and sets it underneath his christmas tree, because it's too big to fit anywhere else. he will have stanley open that later tonight, probably. whenever he feels he should.

just as he settles on the couch and turns the tv on to some random lifetime christmas movie that he doesn't really care for, he hears the bathroom door open and stanley comes out with a towel on top of his head, wrapped around his hair. he ruffles the towel and then takes it down, frowning when he realizes it's a little damp, but it'll be fine and it's still curly, which is the only way he'll have his hair styled out in public. he gives richie a sheepish smile and grabs his backpack, that feels heavier than it did when he had brought it over here, and he turns away from the front door and richie is suddenly standing right there, his keys in his hand and his backpack slung over one shoulder. stan is surprised he hasn't broken something yet, because no matter how heavy that backpack is, he always has it on one shoulder.

together they go outside where it's snowing and below freezing temperature, and they get in the car and drive to the university that's only fifteen minutes away. stanley doesn't talk on the way there, just listens to the christmas music and looks out the passenger window with a smug expression on his face.

they arrive at school and link pinkies on their way in like they have been doing for quite a while, and this time stanley doesn't have to worry about anybody interrupting them. they part ways in the hallway that divides their lockers, and stanley finally cracks a smile when he unzips his backpack and there's a present in there.

richie must be his secret santa. if not, who the hell is stalking him and somehow putting presents everywhere he goes?


	6. december seventeenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> snow day cuddlez

"derry school districts has issued all schools to close due to freezing weather and snowy weather," the tv reads at the bottom of the screen, when richie walks into the living room with nothing but some sweatpants on. he looks over at stanley, who's bundled up in a sweater, sweatpants, and some fuzzy socks, on the couch, reading a book. richie smiles as he recognizes the bookmark set on the coffee table next to him, one of the bird ones he had gotten him.

"looks like you already predicted the snow day," he chuckles, that smile still on his face because he's looking at the pretty boy across the room from him. stanley only glances over at him, too involved in his book, and nods. he sets down the water bottle he was drinking from, that he'd left on the kitchen counter the previous night, and then he goes to the couch and crawls on top of the boy, nudging himself between his body and his book. stanley sighs, holds his book open with one hand as he tangles his fingers in his unruly, just-woken-up locks of raven hair. he's got a blush on his cheeks, which richie can't even see because his head is being forced against his chest, so he can still read the book and cuddle at the same time, but he doesn't protest at all.

they don't talk for quite some time, as stan reads his book and richie fights off the heaviness of his eyes while he watches the talk show host talk about some random politics issue that he honestly couldn't give less of a shit about. just the feeling of stanley's fingers brushing through his hair is enough to make his eyes droop shut and him to fall in and out of consciousness.

"what d'you want for breakfast?" he asks, quietly. stan shrugs, and he sighs, sets the cute bookmark in between the pages he's on and then closes his book and sets it gently on the table. stanley huffs, sticks his bottom lip out into a pout. "answer my question."

stanley looks the older boy in the face, and they're so close if somebody walked in they would probably think they're under the mistletoe or something. "i'm not hungry," he shakes his head, twists his mouth.

richie doesn't take no for an answer. instead he takes a careful scan of his face and notices he's only getting thinner and thinner by the day. he caresses his cheek and runs his thumb over his sharp jawline, which has also gotten bonier. "when was the last time you ate?" he asks, quiet.

the curly-haired boy avoids eye contact, looking at everything and anything but richie, and when he gets his head nudged over to look him in the eyes, he takes in a nervous breath. "i had some spaghetti last night," he tells him.

"you barely even ate any," he shakes his head, and stanley's stomach growls and he looks at him with an eyebrow quirked. "not hungry?" he asks. "i'll make whatever you want, seriously."

stan holds richie's head back down against his chest, where his heart is beating so sporadically he's surprised he's not going into cardiac arrest. he closes his eyes and sighs up at the ceiling. "too sad to eat," he mumbles.

richie wraps his arms around the boy and squeezes him so tight he almost throws up. "don't be sad, bub," he tells him, stan knows he's pouting even though he can't see his face. "that makes me sad."

"i know," he replies, nuzzles his nose into the side of his best friend's face. "and i'm sorry. my heart's broken."

"don't be sorry," richie shakes his head, and since he can't run the boy's back he resorts to running his fingers along his sides, just trying to be comforting, and it's working. he feels his heart sink a little as he says his next words. "you are going to find someone so much better than that cunt. somebody who loves you for who you are and loves your beautiful face and your body and anything and everything you do. maybe you already have found that somebody and you just can't tell yet."

there's a hint of a smile on stanley's face and he slings his arms right over his shoulders and hugs the shit out of the man. "you're the sweetest," he says to him. "i love you, rich."

but richie knows he doesn't mean it in the way he wants him to mean it. he pecks a kiss to the side of his head anyway, can feel his own face heating up all over again. "i love you, too," he responds.

"and i love your face kisses," stan smiles when richie picks his head up to look at him. he can feel a giggle building up in the back of his throat when richie kisses his cheek and his facial stubble (that he hadn't shaved in a few days) scratches his skin, turning it rosier than it already was. he pushes his face away from his, gently though, so he doesn't hurt him or anything, and then richie just presses his lips against his hand. his still bruised hand that hurts every time he goes to pick up a pencil and write with it or do anything of the sort. he sits up so they can push each other around, and when richie flies off the couch in a summersault position, he laughs so hard he cries happy tears.

the first happy tears he's let go in the last week, probably.

-

later that day, they're listening to christmas music on richie's bluetooth speaker, dancing around the house while they wait for the christmas cookies to be done, and richie looks at his christmas tree from where he's standing in the kitchen and notices he forgot to put the star on the top.

"if i lift you up, will you be able to reach the top of my tree and put the star on?" he asks stanley, who's sitting on the counter with an unfrosted, broken cookie halfway in his mouth.

the boy nods, sets the rest of the cookie down on a plate and hops off the counter to follow the taller boy through the house. he goes to the basement to grab the excess tree ornaments he never got to putting on the tree and then he finds the star topper in one of the boxes. they walk back to the living room together and he hands the topper off to stanley and then wraps his arms around his lower waist and picks him up. he holds him up toward the top of the tree and stanley successfully places it right on top. "how's it looking down there?" he asks, looks back at richie, who only grins at him and shakes his head to himself.

when he sets him down, he picks up a wrapped box underneath the tree and hands it to the blond, who looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed. "i was gonna give you this for christmas," he lies, shrugs. "but you keep using mine all the time so i decided to get you one, too."

stanley furrows his eyebrows and pads into the kitchen with his fuzzy socks on, setting the present on the counter and opening it carefully. he gasps when he takes out the speaker, the same one they were just using about two minutes ago, just in a different color. he turns around to look at richie with his mouth agape and he pouts. "these are fucking expensive, richie," he shakes his head in disbelief. "why would you spend that much on me?"

"oh don't worry," richie responds, cant help the knowing smile on his face. "i spent a hell of a lot more than that. you're in for a nice surprise, stan."


	7. december eighteenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stanley uris is sick & sad

the raven-haired boy is trudging through the snow, trying to get to his car so he can wipe the windshield off so that he can actually see where he's driving, when his phone begins to ring in his pocket. he sighs and takes it out and holds it up to see that it's stanley calling him, and with that he automatically answers.

"hi," the boy in the other end greets him, and his voice is croaky and he's sniffling. "i-i'm not feeling well so i'm not going to school. just thought i should let you know so you're not looking for me."

richie frowns almost immediately, stops right in his tracks and doesn't even care about the snow that's soaking the ends of his jeans. "are you okay?" he asks, that's all he really cares about. "i can come over if you want, i only have two classes until noon and then i'm done for the day."

he can hear the ruffle of stanley shaking his head against a pillow or something, and the boy sniffles again. "i'm fine," he says, even though richie doesn't believe him. "i think i have a migraine. i was crying a-and i cried so hard i threw up and now i just feel nauseous," he tells him, voice scratchy.

"what're you wearing?" he asks, concerned. "if you have a sweater on you should take it off, so you can breathe."

"but i have your sweatshirt on," he hiccups, scratches at the side of his wet, sticky face. "it smells like you s-so it feels like you're here with me."

richie's heart picks up at that, but at the same time it drops when he hears the boy start heaving into the trash can next to him, vomiting once again. once he's done and all he can hear is his rapid breaths, he goes back in the house so he can hear better over the gusting winds outside. "i'll come over when i'm done with my classes, okay? then we can cuddle," he speaks, feeling so bad for the heartbroken boy on the other end. "you just need to breathe right now, baby."

stanley sighs, and as richie starts to do a breathing pattern to get him to calm down, he follows it. he continues to hiccup and sniffle at random intervals, and richie wishes so badly he was just there with him, rubbing his back and giving him those cheek kisses he knows he loves so much. once he's calmed down enough to speak, he does. "i liked that," he croaks out, and speaks again before richie can get confused. "what you called me."

"yeah?" he quips, can feel his lips quirk up a little. he winces when his alarm goes off for him to hurry up and leave so he's not late to his classes, and he holds the phone away so he can dismiss it, then he checks the time and realizes he's going to be late. "i have to go, bub. i'll be there in a couple hours, okay?" he frowns.

the crying boy, who's not really crying anymore, says his goodbyes and then hangs up so richie can scurry to his car and practically speed down the road to get to school on time.

-

as soon as the bell rings and his spanish teacher dismisses the class, richie sprints and almost slips on ice outside as he tries to hurry to his car. he's never been more anxious to get to stanley's house in his entire life.

it only takes ten minutes to get to stan's house, which would've taken fifteen if he hadn't sped halfway there until he saw a cop car and decided to slow his roll. he grabs the teddy bear from the backseat of the car, that he was going to give the boy when he saw him at school, but obviously his plans were changed, and then he gets out and full on sprints up to his doorway, smiling a little at all the christmas decorations he has on his front porch.

he knocks on the door but gets absolutely no reply, and that's when he starts to worry again. he calls out his name to get his attention in case he's sleeping or something, and then he tries the door handle and it's unlocked. he opens the door and shuts it as soon as he gets in so he doesn't let any cold air in the warm house, and then he kicks his shoes off quickly and looks around for the boy. he was right about him being asleep, and instead of sleeping on the couch where he had been when he'd called, he's in the middle of the living room floor, his face smooshed in the carpet as he breathes through his open mouth. he's still got his hoodie on, even though he told him to take it off so he didn't overheat, but he looks so peaceful he's almost hesitant to wake him up.

but he decides to get down on his knees next to the sleeping boy and touch his sticky cheek with his cold hand, caressing his skin softly, to get him awake. the boy furrows his eyebrows a little and then stirs, squinting his eyes open with a twist of his mouth. he turns his head and smiles a little when he sees richie, looking at him with a concerned expression on his face. "'m okay," he nods, because he already knows what he was going to ask. he always asks if he's okay, it's the first thing he does when they talk.

"are you sure?" he asks, still worried. "you're sweating. still nauseous?"

he shakes his head, and he sits up a little so he can stay awake. he lets his head rest on richie's shoulder and then he looks up at him and pouts. "can we go to my bedroom?" he asks, voice half full of sleep. he can barely even keep his eyes open. the older boy nods, stands up and reaches his unoccupied hand out to grab his and pull him up as well. he keeps the teddy bear tucked between his arm and his torso, and when they get into the bedroom and stanley collapses into bed, he hands it to him with a wary smile. he hopes stanley doesn't start crying again because then he's gonna start crying, too.

he doesn't, though, just holds it against his chest with his bottom lip stuck out in a pout again. he curls up into a ball and richie goes to grab a blanket but he doesn't have any throw ones, that he can just bundle up in when it gets chilly wherever he wants in the house. he makes a mental note to buy him one for a gift, probably one related to birds or something, and then he lays down on the bed and lets the exhausted boy roll into his arms. "'m sorry i keep falling asleep," he murmurs, half-conscious already. the way he talks when he's half asleep is so cute. "i'll be better tuh-morrow."

richie smiles at him, bites his bottom lip a little to keep himself from just squealing about how cute that boy is. he rubs his back softly, brushes his curls off his forehead so he can peck his skin there. he remembers how stanley moved away when his stubble had rubbed against him last time, and he leaves the kiss on him and doesn't do it again because he doesn't want to scratch him or anything. "it's okay," he tells him. "i'll shave in the morning, so i can kiss you."

the blond shakes his head, uses the hand thats not holding the stuffed animal to run his fingers over his stubble of a beard. "no," he disagrees, richie can imagine the frown on his face even though he can't see him since he's buried in his chest. "don't, i like it."

"okay, baby," he lets out a breathy laugh, he feels like he's in heaven. "i won't."


	8. december nineteenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a platonic massage and some platonic body kisses

"fuck," stanley groans into his pillow, accidentally waking up the man laying in bed next to him. he looks over at him with a rosy face, feeling sorry that he'd woken him up but at the same time not even caring. it is the middle of the night but he figures they both had gotten enough sleep after going to bed in the middle of the afternoon.

richie scrunches up his nose and squints his eyes open, stirring awake. he peeks at the blond with only a single eyebrow quirked. "jeez, i thought you were jerkin' it or something," he tells him, and his voice is deep like it is every morning and stanley honestly could be jerkin it if he kept talking that way. "are you okay?" he asks.

the boy nods, keeps half of his face hidden in his soft and squishy pillow. "it feels like i threw up all my intestines," he whines, sticks his bottom lip into a pout and then breaks out in a smile when richie, eyes closed, reaches out to poke at the tip of his nose. "and i have an exam today and my back is killing me."

nobody says anything until stanley closes his eyes and feels the bed shift, like somebody's moving. he opens his eyes and goes to look at richie, but he's not there, and then he feels a ton of pressure right above his tailbone and he tilts his head back and richie is straddling him. he asks what he's doing but he gets his answer when his hands start to knead at the warm skin of his back, underneath his sweater. stanley groans again and shoves his face back into his pillow, just focusing on the massage he's receiving.

he never would have imagined richie would be good at this, as he's never seen him ever give anybody a massage in his entire life. it might just be because his back hurts and even a cat could step on him and he would feel better, but he can't tell. richie asks him if he can take his sweatshirt off, and stan replies that yes, he can, it's his sweater anyway, and then he slips it off and buries his face in it, because it smells like the two of them combined and he's never smelt anything better.

richie smiles and bites his bottom lip to stop himself from speaking about the scattered freckles around his tanned skin, the dip in the middle of his back or the perfect curve of his hips. although he ends up speaking when stanley asks what he's thinking about, as he can tell when richie is smiling even when he can't see his face. it's like he can feel his energy radiating onto himself. "nothing," he shakes his head, but then he begins to speak. "i just refuse to believe dickface could've ever thought you didn't have a good body. and i'm just looking at your back and i'm already in awe."

he can physically feel stanley hum into the fabric of the sweater, can also tell that he's trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl at the compliment. "i believe it," he speaks up, voice muffled. "i never liked it, neither did anyone else, i guess," he shrugs, and then sighs softly when richie brings his hands up to his shoulders and starts to rub them.

"if i was him i would've never let you put your clothes on," he shakes his head, lets out a breathy laugh because he says that almost immediately after stanley finishes talking. "you're telling me he never, like, kissed down your chest or your stomach or your back?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed. the next thing he says isn't something he meant to say, but it doesn't bother him when he does because stanley finally brings his pretty face away from the mattress and looks at him with a rosy face. "i would."

the boy shushes him, and goes to hide his face again, but richie uses one hand to hold himself on the bed so he doesn't fall off and then brings the other one up to catch his face, tilting it toward him and frowning at him. "i mean it," he tells him, narrows his eyes at him playfully. "i'm literally going to if you don't start loving yourself."

stanley only grins, teeth and all, for the first time that morning, and then he looks him right in the eyes. "i'm not gonna," he shakes his head, and then he quickly turns his head and buries it back in the silky sheets, giggling.

so richie stops his massage and leans forward to be closer to his ear. "no?" he asks in a hushed tone, both eyebrows up in interest. then he tilts his body a little so he can lean over and see stanley's face. "is that you saying you actually want me to?" he asks, curious. "cause i won't if you don't tell me you want it."

the younger boy nods, looks at the other with shy eyes and his bottom lip snug between his teeth. when richie nods in agreement he lays back down and gets little chills down his spine when he continues to speak in his ear.

"should i kiss your neck or is that too much?" he asks, then he feels silly because he's literally going to be kissing all over the rest of his body. stanley shrugs, so he nudges his head away from his shoulder and presses his lips against the warm skin of his neck, and then stan nods, signaling for him to continue.

he does continue, leaves featherlight kisses all over the sides and the back off his neck, careful not to open his mouth or let his teeth graze over him and accidentally leave a mark. if max saw stanley with a hickey on his neck, only four days after they'd broken up, he would automatically know who it was and murder the both of them right away. he shakes the thought out of his head when he hears stanley sigh quietly and move a little so he can get comfortable.

as he gets to the beginning of stan's spine, he scoots farther down to straddle his thighs and then he begins to peck along his shoulders, down to his shoulder blades. stanley, who has been tense since he'd woken up that morning, visibly relaxes and reaches his hand back so he can hold richie's hand, linking their fingers together and giggling when richie squeezes them softly.

he keeps on receiving those cute little kisses all the way down his back, and by the time richie reaches right above the waistline of his sweatpants, stan's snoring, asleep again. richie beams at that, wraps his arms around his waist and snuggles up against his back, his chin hooked over his shoulder and his legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

later that day they two coop up in bed together just like that, except this time they're underneath a pretty, fuzzy blanket with a bird design on it, that richie gotten when he ran to the store between his theatre and english classes and shoved in a gift bag that he'd set next to his backpack. except this time, stanley is the one sleeping against richie's back, his legs wrapped around him and trapping him into the mattress so he can't even get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night if he has to. but it's fine, if richie suffocated to death like this, he couldn't possibly be happier.


	9. december twentieth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drunk kisses

the only thing that can be heard in richie's house is the blaring christmas tunes and stanley's drunken giggles as he dances with the other boy around the house, stumbling over the corners of carpets and the edges of the kitchen island.

stanley, who had been completely and utterly nervous by the time he had arrived at school this morning, had taken another exam and had passed with flying colors. after he found out that news, he jumped right into richie's arms as soon as they were close enough in the hallway to see each other, and richie proposed that they should celebrate with some champagne when they get back to his house.

so, they do celebrate, and richie sips his wine slower than stanley, who gulps a glass down almost immediately. he figures stan needs this, the alcohol, to get his mind off his ex boyfriend, who he now sees around town sometimes, holding hands with that same slut he'd been caught in bed with. he watches a tipsy stanley jump around the living room with his half-empty glass in his hand, and he accidentally spills some but it's fine because it was only on the hardwood floor and isn't going to stain.

richie, who's only slightly tipsy, sets his glass down on the countertop where their christmas cookies from the other day sit, and begins to eat one. stanley skips up to him and snatches it out of his hands, shoving it in his mouth and letting crumbs spill out when he barks out a laugh. his face is all rosy from dancing so intensely and he's trying to catch his breath, but he doesn't even bother trying to, just grabs his hand and drags him over to the couch, nudging him down onto it. he gnaws at his bottom lip as he slips his ugly christmas sweater over his head and somehow manages to straddle richie's hips, placing himself right on his groin and letting out a breathy laugh when he leans forward and attaches his lips to his neck, like a leech. "my turn," he murmurs against his skin, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all around that area.

the older boy, in a less-drunken state, almost immediately goes to clutch his head between his hands and pull him away gently, so he can look him in the eyes. "you're drunk," he informs him, as if he didn't know that already. the honey-haired boy nods, still has that pretty little grin on his face. "you're gonna regret this in the morning, you know."

"nuh-uh," he shakes his head, and then he buries his face back in the crook of his neck and continues to practically make out with his skin, nipping and sucking in scattered areas until there's love bites all over. richie tsks and warns him that if he keeps doing this, he's going to end up starting something that he's unable to stop. he picks his head up to gaze at him, his lip still between his teeth until he opens his mouth to speak. "what're you gonna do about it if i don't?" he asks, grinning. his usual pretty brown eyes are dark, wide, so big they're almost popping out of his head, but he closes them when richie nuzzles his face into the side of his own, pecks his jaw and makes his way slowly down his neck. he doesn't bite or suck his warm skin there, because he doesn't want anybody to know that they got into this so early after stanley's breakup.

as he gets to stanley's collarbones, he wraps his arms tightly around his boy's waist and tugs him impossibly close, ignoring the twitching problem in his sweatpants when their groins rub against each other. he can feel stanley's healing fingers tangle themselves in his hair, cradling his head against his chest while he sighs softly into the top of his head. who knew kisses could be so relaxing? he's in complete and utter bliss from the tiny, loving little pecks to right underneath his rib cage, trailing down a straight line of kisses to his abdomen. he giggles when richie begins to smooch the flat, almost sunken-in skin of his stomach, where stanley has to sit up straighter, get up on his knees so he can reach and not break his neck trying to do it.

"rich," stan giggles when he blows a raspberry into his skin. they both pull away from each other and smile shyly.

richie is going to say something when all of a sudden his mind is clouded with another though. "i have something for you," he murmurs, but he just sits there for a while and just stares at the boy in his lap, who's wiping at his mouth because he's literally drooling, probably from the amount of affection he'd just received. "oh my god, you're beautiful," he blurts out.

the blond just sits there with a pout on his face, that adorable little puff of his lip that he always uses to get his way or show his sadness. he shakes his head and instantly giggles when richie gives him a deadpan expression. "stop," he whines.

the other boy only leans forward and pecks his nose gently, not kissing his lips because he doesn't want to go too far. he knows kissing, especially drunk, would lead to a lot more. "your present is under my tree," he motions to it with the hand that's not caressing his back. "go get it, baby."

stan obeys like he always does and then he gets off the couch and his lap and pads over to the christmas tree. the bright lights reflect off the belt around his waist, richie notices when he bends down to grab the small box from underneath it, and he comes back to sit in his lap with a smile on his face.

as soon as he unwraps the box and opens it up to see two bird necklaces, that look like there from claire's or some little girl store like that, with the words 'best friends' split between them. he awes at it and looks up to look at richie with that damn pout on his face again, and then richie takes the one that says 'friends' on it and stuffs it in his sweatshirt pocket. he takes the other one out and asks stanley to tilt his head away so he can put his necklace on him. he hooks it around his neck and then points to the word on it. "'cause you're the best."


	10. december twenty-first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> regrets

richie gets up pretty early in the morning today, and is shocked, to say the least, when he looks over and realizes stanley is awake, too. his head his buried in his pillow, but he can tell he's up because his body is shaking slightly and every few seconds he can hear muffled sobs from him. he furrows his eyebrows and reaches over to rub at his back, that's still bare from the previous evening. "what's wrong?" he asks. "are you okay?"

the honey-curled boy takes in a shaky breath and pulls away from his pillow a bit, so he can turn his head and look richie in the face. "i shouldn't have let you do what you did last night," he shakes his head. then he twists his mouth as he remembers all the kisses he'd received and how good they had felt. "cause now i'm gonna catch feelings, and god knows what happens when i fall in love with somebody."

he scoots closer to the crying boy, takes his hand away from his back and instead cups his flushed cheek in his hand and runs his thumb across his cheekbone, wiping a stray tear in the process. "you think i would treat you like that douchebag did?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed, almost in anger or disbelief or something. "stan, i would rather die than hurt you in any way. you know that, right?"

stanley just nods, bottom lip trembling, and he sits up a little so he can wipe at his eyes and the snot underneath his nose. they make eye contact then, and richie sits up, too, to be level with the boy. "can i have a hug?" he asks sheepishly.

"you don't have to ask, bub," he shakes his head, a concerned expression on his face. he opens his arms and lets stanley fall into them, tangling their bodies together as he begins to cry into the crook of his neck. he rubs his back gently, pulling him as close as possible and feeling himself start to get upset, as well. "i promise i'm never going to be like him," he mumbles into his temple, where he pecks him once or twice. "you don't deserve that."

the blond hiccups a little and then tries to breathe like he had breathed when richie was on the phone with him the other day. when he finally calms down enough, he tangles his fingers in the wrinkles of his t-shirt and sniffles a bit. it occurs to him that their best friend necklaces are touching each other, and he smiles but it's melancholy. are they still even best friends or are they something else? that's what he tends to worry about. if somebody were to ask him if he had a boyfriend or not, what would he say? technically they're not anything more than best friends, except the fact that they've kissed everywhere but the other's lips, but in his heart he feels as if there's something more, something there that they just are too afraid to bring up.

he doesn't realize richie's been speaking soothing things into his ear this whole time, as his mind is clouded with those thoughts that will just never go away. "stanley, it's almost christmas," he coos at him, and his stubble scratches against the side of his face but he couldn't care less, he honestly finds it attractive. "will you come with me to visit my family tomorrow? my parents love you, and my sister just had a baby in july and she's so cute and she's gonna love you, too," he offers.

then he doesn't say anything as he overthinks what richie had just asked him. eventually he nods when richie says his name softly to get his attention. "are you sure?" he asks. "i don't wanna ruin anything, rich, that's your family."

"but you're gonna make it a thousand times more fun," richie replies, and he knows it's true. "and we get to sleep in my old room together. double bed, too, so that means lots of space for cuddling," he beams at him.

stanley giggles, and then he pulls back from the hug to let his eyes scatter over some of the light hickeys on his neck. he points to them, runs his fingers over them with an eyebrow quirked and tears drying on his cheeks. "what're you gonna do about these?" he asks, because he's curious and also because he just doesn't wanna get absolutely murdered by richie's parents when he walks through the front door and that's the first thing they see. he lets out a breathy laugh at the image in his head of that situation, and then he snaps out of his daydream and looks at richie, who's just staring at him and smiling. "what?"

"you're just so," he brings his hands up to motion to the boy, shakes his head like he's in disbelief that he's in front of him right now. "pretty. i'm still pining and it's been ten years since i met you."

"sap," the shirtless boy replies, but he's blushing. if richie would've told him that a long time ago, he never would've gotten into a different relationship and he definitely wouldn't be as heartbroken as he is right now.

but quite honestly his heart is starting to heal already. it shouldn't be like that, as him and max were together for two years and that was his first relationship he's ever had, but it was toxic and sometimes he hated the absolute fuck out of him and wanted to just punch him right back in the face, fight back. he's glad richie dragged him out of that mess, and into the mess he's proud to call their friendship. their messy, sometimes-we-give-eachother-hickeys-and-kiss-each-other's-bodies-all-over type of friendship. he wouldn't want it any other way, though.


	11. december twenty-second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> faking love

the next morning, there are only a faint scatter of love bites along richie's neck which he had attempted to cover up with some of beverly's concealer that she had left there a long time ago.

he's in the middle of packing some clothes into his duffel bag, kneeling in the middle of his bedroom and trying to shove his winter coat in the bag, when all of a sudden he feels a warmth against his back and there are arms wrapping around his shoulders. he beams, tilts his head to the side a little so the boy behind him can press his lips against his cheek and peck him gently. he lets go of the coat and reaches one arm back to poke and prod at one side of stanley's waist, making him jump and laugh a little.

"how was your shower?" richie asks, doesn't bother looking at the boy on his back. "warm enough?"

stanley hums, and he nods and richie can feel his damp hair tickle at his neck. he goes back to stuffing his bag with items and clothes he's going to need for the visit, and when he finally get it zipped up, he turns his entire body around and is a bit surprised when stanley straddles his lap, keeps his arms around him. he peers at richie's face while richie looks up and down at his outfit with a hint of a smile on his lips.

he's sporting a plain pink button-up t-shirt with some ripped jeans he's never seen before, and his wooly jean jacket sits on the bed untouched, which he's gonna put on before they leave. richie is in awe at how well the pink shirt accentuates the boy's flushed cheeks, and he can't help but reach up and just pinch his cheek between his fingers. "you look so cute, my mom's gonna literally squish you to death," he shakes his head, and stanley just giggles and rolls his eyes, standing back up.

richie gets up on his feet, too, and hoists his bag over his shoulder so he can carry it into the living room and set it down near the front door. he grabs his vans from the mat next to the door and pads toward the couch to sit down, and then he slips his shoes on and waits patiently for stanley to grab his bag (he'd already packed last night before he came over to richie's - can you tell he's always prepared?) and come in as well.

stanley does walk in a couple of minutes later with his cute jacket on and his hair combed back into an unruly mess of half-flattened curls on top of his head. he's gonna keep his window rolled down in the car slightly so he can dry them before they get to richie's parents' house. he doesn't want to show up there looking like him and richie had just gotten it on in the shower before they came, although he kind of wishes they did.

as he laces his own shoes up, he picks his head up and makes eye contact with the boy across from him. "you look cute, too, y'know," he speaks up for the first time that morning, motioning to his hawaiian shirt. "reminds me of that one shirt you had when we were kids."

"you remember that?" richie asks, chuckling. once they both have their shoes on, they pick up their luggage and richie holds his hand out to the blond, who takes it and only smiles as he leads him to the trunk of the car. they put their bags in the car and then get in their proper seats, richie in the driver's and stan in the passenger's.

if richie rests his hand on stan's thigh and occasionally holds his hand in the middle of the two seats on the car ride there, they don't mention a thing to anybody, or even to themselves.

-

"why're you nervous?" the raven-haired man asks the boy in the seat next to him, who's bouncing his leg up and down anxiously. he also has one of his red and green painted fingernails in his mouth, gnawing on it and almost ripping the edge of it off. he sends a cute pout richie's way when he snatches his hand away from his lips. "you've met my parents and my sister before, silly. you met holly, too, even though she's a couple years older now."

stanley nods, and his now-dry curls flop on top of his head when he does. he's honestly in desperate need of a haircut, and he really wants to get one but richie continues and continues to whine about how cute it looks now and how he really just shouldn't do anything to it. "i haven't met autumn's boyfriend yet," he shrugs, voice low, as if somebody could possibly hear them outside of the car, since they're in the driveway of his parent's house. "or the new baby."

richie turns his body after he unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face the boy next to him. he grabs both his hands and laces their fingers together, forcing stanley to look at him without even touching his face or saying anything. stanley just always has to look at people when they're talking. "they're going to love you," he tells him, gives him a warm smile, and then he holds his hand up to nuzzle the side of his face into it. "if it makes you feel any better, we can pretend to be boyfriends," he murmurs.

the honey-haired boy can literally feel his face get hot, and he looks richie in the eyes to make sure he's serious. he is one-hundred and ten percent serious. "really?" he asks, and when richie nods, he quirks an eyebrow and forgets all about his anxiety about meeting the new family members. "why? i mean, not that i don't want to, but, why would you wanna?"

"'cause i love you and 'cause i care," richie replies, he's blushing, too, now. what an awkward fake couple! "and i know they're gonna make us take pictures, and the kids are gonna make me put a santa hat on, so i hope you don't mind sitting on my lap and telling me what you want for christmas," he laughs, covers his mouth to stop himself from beaming at the curly-haired boy.

stanley giggles as they finally settle down and hear 'all i want for christmas is you' playing on the radio. maybe it's true that all he wants for christmas is richie. he won't say a word, though. he has his wish for the next couple of days, even if it's fake.

-

stanley watches with a great big smile on his face as richie coos at the newborn baby that he's cradling in his lanky arms, and he looks over at autumn (richie's sister) and her boyfriend, blake, and smiles at the fact that they're cuddling on the sofa under a cozy blanket. he's got a mug of hot chocolate cupped in his hands, and he almost chokes on it when he looks up and everyone is looking at him. "huh?" he asks, confused, as he sets it down on the coffee table.

"don't move!" richie's first niece, holly, tsks at him from where she's kneeling on the couch in front of him. he apologizes to her and lets her go back to coloring on his bare arm, giving him all sorts of colorful tattoos with her washable markers. she sticks her tongue out in concentration as she attempts to draw a heart in pink, the same color as his shirt.

he looks up at richie and furrows his eyebrows, waiting for him to explain what everyone's laughing and smiling at him for. he picks up the giggling baby and cradles her head against his chest, rubbing her back softly like he does to stanley when they're cuddling. "i said holly must really like you," he smiles at him, and he gives him a knowing look to tell him that he knew everything was gonna be fine. he holds the baby up a little to show her to stanley, and when stanley waves at her, she squeals out a laugh. that's all babies seem to do is laugh or cry. in this case, it's laughter. "chloe likes you, too."

the seven year old nods, and she looks stanley in the face after she caps the pink marker and sets it on the table so she can grab another one. then, she turns her head back to look at richie and her baby sister. "i love stanley," she giggles. stanley pouts in awe.

richie laughs, too, as does everyone else in the room. he bites his bottom lip and barley hesitates to reply. "i love stanley, too."


	12. december twenty-third

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an accidental kiss

"well, good morning to you, too," stanley murmurs sleepily as richie wraps his arms around him from behind and nuzzles his face into the crook of his neck. they had been ready for bed the previous night and were going to climb into bed when they tried to get into bed in the dark and had fallen to the floor as soon as they had got to where they thought the mattress was. as it had turned out, richie's parents had switched his and autumn's beds before they had come because they knew their daughter would be bringing her whole family along and they all needed the room. so, richie and stanley had to sleep all tangled together on a single bed, cuddling like they've been dating for years.

richie refuses to get his arms off the boy, even when he looks over at the doorway and his mom is standing there, smiling at them. he just picks his hand up a little and waves at her, then places that hand back to rest on his waist, closing his eyes. "you guys are so cute," maggie coos at them, and she looks at their matching, fluffy christmas pajamas with her smile still on her face. "where did you get those?" she asks.

the honey-headed boy only shrugs, opens his eyes to look down at his pajama pants and the arms holding him close. "richie got them for us for christmas," he tells her, and he goes to sit up so he can get up and talk to the lady more, he didn't really get the chance to catch up with her yesterday as she was trying to set everything up for the kids and make dinner and everything. richie pulls him back, though, snickers as stanley huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "jeez, rich, let a man breathe," he giggles a little.

"man?" richie taunts, hides the sly grin on his face so stanley can't turn around and slap it right off his face. he can't even apologize or say anything else because stanley somehow manages to untangle himself and sprint up out of bed, staying away from him.

"you're a dick," he shakes his head, and then he realizes he swore in front of richie's mom and he turns to apologize but she's already gone. his heart almost stops when he goes to turn back and richie is standing right in front of him, sending a playful glare his way, and all of a sudden he's getting picked up and slung over his shoulder. "richie!" he shrieks, smacking him lightly on top of the head. "put me down, asshole!"

the raven-haired man doesn't put him down until he carries him all the way downstairs and they're stopped at the end by autumn. richie could easily just push her out of the way, she obviously didn't inherit any tall genes in their family, but he can't because the baby is in her arms. "you two might wanna look up," she murmurs as she brushes past them, to go set the baby back in her crib upstairs, where her husband is still sleeping.

they do tilt their heads up and both can feel their hearts practically stop when they see the mistletoe above them, dangling off the ceiling so low richie is surprised he hasn't hit his head on it or even noticed it since they got there.

stanley is about to run away from the situation he's in, after richie set him down so he could finally stand on his feet, but holly and maggie are standing nearby, watching them. "kiss!" the girl, who could honestly pass for richie's daughter, exclaims toward them with a big smile on her face.

if stan really wanted to be a dick to richie's family and just storm off and not kiss his 'boyfriend' in front of them, he would've. but stanley literally cannot be mean to these people, they're like family to him and as much as he may hate to say it, he loves richie and would never purposefully disrespect him or his family. so, he turns to richie and gives him a timid smile, his cheeks coated with a rosy blush, and he gets up on his tiptoes a little so richie can lean forward and peck his best friend's lips quickly.

as richie goes to turn and walk away, practically drunk on that little second of a kiss they had shared, stanley grabs onto his wrist to tug him back. he catches his handsome face in his hands and captures his lips in a kiss that lasts a hell of a lot longer than the first one. the raven-haired boy, shocked, places his hands on his hips and lets his face relax a little, completely forgetting about the fact that his niece and his parents are both in the room, staring at them.

richie's lips, despite how chapped they can get around the wintertime like this, are so soft, like a pillow. if stanley would've known he was this good of a kisser without even moving his lips or doing anything, he would've kissed the absolute shit out of him years upon years ago, when they were still teenagers, pining over different boys and girls and trying to discover things they liked and disliked.

but he has richie now, and he hopes he's gonna have richie forever after this kiss, like it's sealing the deal. as soon as he has some free time, like when richie is asleep or something of the sort, he's going to get on facetime with eddie and just gush about everything that happened that morning, from cuddling in a single bed to kissing under the mistletoe in maggie and wentworth's stairway.

their only signal to pull away from each other and stop being lovebirds is the click of a camera from somewhere in the room. richie looks over and his mom is holding her phone up toward them and is, or was, rather, taking a picture. he shakes his head at her but at the same time he wants to tell her to send it to him, so he can just look at it and admire it forever and ever.

was their first kiss really just under a mistletoe? what a cliche thing to do. that's stanley's gift for the day, later that evening, after they get ready for bed and snuggle up under the covers, he gets ten kisses on the lips for the tenth day of their christmas. stanley has never been this happy in weeks, and to think this was all because of a stupid little mistletoe.


	13. december twenty-fourth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fights & confessions

"are you seriously being this way right now?" richie asks, his arms crossed over his chest as he attempts to kiss his best friend's lips but gets pushed away. he peers down at stanley with a huff of his breath, stepping away from him a little bit.

the honey-haired boy only shakes his head and moves to a different side of the room, not bothering to sit down on the bed because he knows if he's does he's going to get trapped. "i'm not gonna make out with you while we're waiting for your mom to finish dinner," he murmurs, crosses his arms over his chest as well. "jesus, you're reminding me of max."

richie turns to look at him with his eyebrows tilted up toward the ceiling, his lips pursed together. he takes a moment to think of what he should say to make a good argument against the boy standing in front of the window and it finally pops into his head. "oh, so you're saying i'm a selfish, abusive, cheating asshole that doesn't love you and has never done half the things that i've done for you," he scoffs, and barks out a sarcastic laugh. "aren't you sweet?"

stanley turns toward him to speak with steam practically rolling out of his ears, that are becoming red at the tips. it's not his fault he gets angry so easily. "well, when you talk like that, of course that's what i'm going to think," he replies, voice low, as he doesn't want anybody to hear them if they happen to be snooping around in the hallway or something.

"what did i even do?" the raven-haired man asks, walks toward the blond with a grimace on his face. "my god, i try to kiss you and you act like i'm about to beat the shit out of you," he rolls his eyes, as he flings his arms up in over-exaggeration, and immediately stops his train of thought when he notices stanley flinch immediately. he's just so mad, though, he's not thinking rationally about what he's saying and he most certainly isn't meaning any of the words he's spewing at the boy, who's now standing in front of him, cowering in the corner. "and now you're scared of me? calm the fuck down, i'm not doing anything."

that poor, sensitive boy literally has tears in his eyes the next time he looks richie in the face, after a minute of complete silence and him just looking at the ground. "do you not understand i was abused almost every single day?" he asks, doesn't bother to uncross his arms or hide the tears that are starting to drip down his face. "you don't just get over that, richie. and i know it's stupid but i can't even kiss you without thinking of him. if you were in my shoes, you would fucking feel like that, too," he shakes his head at him, and then he looks over and maggie is in the doorway, peeking her head in. he doesn't think she's been there long, as she has her oven mitts on and looks like she'd just walked in, and his heart stops.

did she hear any of that? and if she did, what did she hear? does she know they're not really together now? did she find out about his ex boyfriend that he'd never said much about because he didn't want anybody to know how absolutely stupid and pathetic he was to stay with him?

"dinner's ready," she informs them, and she furrows her thin, freshly-plucked eyebrows in concern. "are you guys okay?" she asks. richie nods at her and doesn't even bother looking back at the boy next to him, who's hands are trembling slightly now. he watches as stanley brushes past his mom and out of the room, wiping at his wet cheeks, and maggie calls out after him. "aren't you going to have something to eat, stanley?" she asks, even though he's already going down the stairs and grabbing his shoes from next to the front door.

"i'm not hungry," he sniffles as he slips his shoes on, and then he disappears out into the snowy outdoors, with only a t-shirt covering his torso. he's never hungry anymore, not since max told him he needed to lose some weight and then maybe he'd think about looking at his nude body. richie has been making him eat for the last couple of days, but now that they're arguing, he has nobody to tell him what to do. so, he just sits on the porch steps with his knees curled up to his chest and his head in his hands, weeping silently. he does that for probably ten minutes until he hears the clink of the doorknob jiggling and someone opens the door. he can literally feel their eyes on him and can immediately tell who it is just from their presence, and he wishes he could just get up and kiss him and get all warm and wrapped up in his arms like he's been doing the past twelve days, but he's angry.

the person still standing shuts the door behind them and then takes a seat next to the crying boy, who only peeks at him through the shaky hands covering his face. he watches richie take a cigarette out of his sweatshirt pocket and light it, and then he puts it in his parted lips and bites on it a little as he breathes it in. "i'm sorry," he says when he holds the cigarette between his fingers and takes it out of his mouth. stanley knows he's sincere, he's always serious about his apologies when they're like this. "are you mad at me?" he asks, and then sighs. "i know you're upset, i dunno why i just asked that, but i'm really sorry."

stanley nods, doesn't bother to peek at him any more as he hides back in his hands and keeps his knees curled up to his chest. it's not as if he doesn't want to accept his apology, he just wants an explanation as to why he'd become such a dick fifteen minutes ago.

"you know i love you, right?" he asks, waits for the nod of approval but he doesn't get one, only a muffled sniffle. "i would never do anything he did to you. and i know i don't completely understand how you feel but i want to understand, because i care about you with everything in me," he sounds so serious, for the first time in a while, honestly. "my dad just sat me down at the dinner table five minutes ago and knocked some sense into me, and i know i should've figured out that i was wrong by myself but i got angry. i'm so sorry, stanley."

the cigarette in between richie's long fingers is starting to burn out a little, getting shorter and shorter by the minute, and stanley picks his head up so he can grab it from him and stick it in his own mouth. he can see richie smile at him a little from the corner of his eye and it makes him want to smile, too, he just has that effect on him. "i'm not mad at you," he shakes his head, voice timid, like he's telling him something top secret. "i'm sorry i said what i said, i-i know you're nothing like him."

he can feel his lips pick up and his world get a little brighter when richie takes the cigarette back and holds it away from the two so he can caress his wet, rosy face. "i love you, okay?" he speaks in a soft, slightly-nervous voice. "i've been in love with you since we were kids. when you told me you were with that dickhead, i cried for three days straight. he took my everything from me," he laughs a little, and when stanley giggles, he stubs the cigarette out on the pavement and then wraps his arms around him, holding him tight.

and stanley can't help himself, can't fight off the urge to just kiss him, even though he'd said he's too scared to earlier, so he finds himself laughing a little as he leans forward and presses their lips together for a couple seconds. he doesn't give him the 'i love you' when they pull away, he doesn't think he's ready to say that and really come to terms with that fact, but he does give him his cute little smile and grabs onto his hand so he can link their fingers together.

he watches with his eyebrows furrowed as richie reaches behind his back and grabs a christmas gift bag, and he opens it with a leftover sniffle. the tears are no longer coming out, just sitting and drying on his cheeks from the cold air blowing against him, and he starts laughing again when he opens the bag and takes out a pair of weed socks, the same ones richie is literally wearing at this exact moment. he can feel richie rubbing at his bare arm with his warm hands, as he'd barely been out in the cold that long and stanley had been.

when they go back inside, everyone is sitting at the dinner table, already eating, because richie had tood them to start without them, so they could kiss and make up and he could give him his present for the day. richie waits for stanley at the table as he sits on the floor near the front door and slips his new socks on his feet, and then he slides over to the table on the hardwood floor and sits down next to him. they hold hands under the table and richie keeps on telling holly and the baby, chloe, that santa isn't gonna come if they don't hurry up and get to bed. chloe falls asleep with no problem, because she's so little she can barely even grasp the idea of christmas and santa, it's like any other day to her. holly, however, dances around in her cute little bathrobe with a towel twisted on top of her head, holding her wet hair up, and she ends up getting tired and going to bed after giving both stanley and richie each a kiss on the cheek. then, everyone is asleep except for richie, who's just staring at the sleeping boy in his arms with a beaming grin on his face. he loves that boy so much, always has and always will. tomorrow he's going to make sure stanley knows that.


	14. december twenty-fifth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LOVE

"look at my beautiful boy," richie coos as he pads into the bathroom to see stanley stepping out of the shower, a purple towel around his waist and his hair a sopping wet mess. there are water droplets cascading down the pale skin of his thin body, which he quickly wipes away with a towel, and he looks at richie with rosy cheeks and a hint of a smile on his pretty face. "i've got a little something for you if you'd hurry up and get dressed, slowpoke," he teases. 

stanley sticks his middle finger up in response as he shuts the door on richie, leaving him to sit on the bed and wait as he gets his clothes on and brushes his teeth. they had been up since six in the morning, because holly had been so excited to open her christmas presents and would not let anybody sleep until she was done and until everyone had received and opened their own presents. richie and stanley had stopped at the mall shortly before coming to the house and bought everyone some presents, and holly was absolutely ecstatic to find out they had gotten her the barbie dream-house she had been begging everyone for for the last year and a half. she danced around the living room and richie had to keep his mouth shut and try not to blurt out that he was the one that got her the present and santa wasn't.

once he's finally done getting dressed, he steps out of the bathroom and rolls his eyes sarcastically as richie drags his eyes over his pretty little body. he just stands there with his arms crossed over his chest comfortably, and he looks at richie with an eyebrow drawn up. "was it expensive?" he asks, with a pout on his lips that he always seems to have, then he narrows his eyes with an adorable tilt of his head. "i'm gonna kill you if it is."

richie twists his mouth. "not really," he shrugs his shoulders, that are covered by a winter jacket that he'd just slipped on. he holds his keys up to jingle them in front of stanley's skeptical face with a smile. "not yet, at least. we have to go get it first, and then you can interrogate me."

the honey-haired boy links their fingers together and drags him down the hallway and out of the house, where they had sat the previous night and kissed and confessed their love, even if stanley's was through unspoken words and only a peck to the lips. he helps stan walk through the shoveled driveway and into the car without managing to slip on ice, and together they listen to christmas music and holds their hands over the center counsel of richie's 2012 honda civic. stan whines when the boy driving tells him to cover his eyes as they pull onto a different road. that must mean they're getting pretty close to where they're supposed to be going, and as much as he doesn't want to cover his eyes, wants to see the surprise as soon as possible, he obliges and puts his unoccupied hand over both his eyes with a whine and a stomp of his foot. 

richie tells him he'll be back in a minute or two before he gets out of the car and disappears inside the building. he knows richie isn't able to see him anymore but he can't bring himself to look and see where they are. it's almost like his brain knows he would do absolutely anything for richie if it meant it would make him happy. 

he sighs and is about to take his phone out of his sweatshirt pocket and check to see if he got any messages from him or anything when he doesn't come back for more than just a couple minutes. all of a sudden he hears the car door start to open on the driver's side and he just keeps his eyes closed, still tilting his head toward the boy that gets back in and says something to somebody that isn't him. he furrows his eyebrows and finally gets permission to open his eyes, and his heart literally bursts out of his chest when he looks at the golden retriever puppy sitting in richie's lap, facing toward him with its mouth open. it looks like he's smiling, and he looks up at richie with a slacked jaw and his eyebrows still furrowed. 

"i did not plan for this to happen but i've been hearing you mope around about not being able to see max's dog anymore so i decided to get you your own," the raven-haired man explains, and watches as the puppy yips a little and scurries to stand and paw at stanley's lap instead. "and i know you didn't want one but i came here and saw him and he was so fucking cute, stan, i couldn't resist. i'll help you pay for dog food and whatever else he needs."

stanley physically cannot find a way to respond, just sitting there and letting the pup, who's the same color as stanley's hair, lick his hand. he, instead, brings the hand that isn't being licked up to caress richie's cheek, looking him in his blush-coated face and his hopeful eyes before he leans forward carefully and presses a smacking kiss to his chapped lips. "i love you so much," he says out loud when they pull away. it's the first time he's said it and meant it in the lovey-dovey way, and richie literally can't find it in him to even breathe after he says it. "seriously, i'm gonna cry, rich, i love you," he shakes his head, looks down at the golden pup that's staring up at him and panting, excited that it has a new home and isn't stuck in the pound anymore. who could've possibly been a better owner than stan-the-man uris? "i'm gonna name him cookie."

richie coos when stanley does actually begin to cry, but he's still got a beaming smile on his face so that makes him feel a little better about the situation. he bites his bottom lip in an attempt to not grin at the boy in the passenger seat, petting the dog with his delicate fingers and allowing it to lick and drool on his forearm. "stan," he barks out a little laugh, just as the dog barks, too. he grabs his other hand and brings it up to his lips so he can peck a kiss to his soft skin, then he holds the back of his hand against his cheek and laces their fingers together. "i knew you were gonna cry, i shouldn't have forgotten the tissues."

the curly-haired boy giggles a little through his happy little sobs, peeks up at richie through his long, wet eyelashes. "it's okay," he nods at him, motions to his sweater. "i can use my sleeve. i'll be done crying in a second, promise."

"you can't get your sleeves all messy before we go to the lights," he tells him, as if he forgot about their plans for later, after dinner. "i'm not dressed yet, you can use my shirt," and then he slips his coat and his shirt off and tosses the shirt to him. 

"you're going to freeze."

"i think i'll survive knowing the most beautiful boy on the planet is in love with me."

-

"can i walk cookie around when we get there?" holly asks, after she swallows the bit of ham in her mouth and catches sight of the puppy sitting obediently on the floor next to the couch in the other room. despite being a puppy, that dog is very well-trained. he hasn't begged for a single scrap of food since they'd all sat down to eat twenty minutes ago. she turns her head to face richie and stan, who're holding hands under the table again and cracking inside jokes to one another during moments of silence that shouldn't be funny but they are. "what're you and stanley gonna do there? are you guys gonna kiss again? are you guys in love? am-"

stanley bursts out laughing while he chokes on a chunk of food that lodges into his throat, and he kicks richie's shin under the table on accident and sends him stringing out a bunch of curse words. everyone just sits there staring at them, besides the baby, who's sitting in her high chair and laughing also with him, because she doesn't know what's funny but people are laughing and that must mean she's supposed to laugh, too. they don't calm down for another two and a half minutes, and when they finally look around and see everyone's dead-panned expressions (except autumn - who's trying not to smile at how amusing and dumb her brother can be), they completely stop. stanley apologizes and then they just go back to eating. 

"you didn't answer my questions," the little girl pouts at the two boys, makes eye contact with both of them. she sets her plate down and crosses her arms over his chest.

autumn takes their blank stares as a call for help and she puts her hand on her daughter's back, beginning to speak to her with a wink toward her brother. "stanley is very much in love with uncle richie, honey."

the honey-haired boy can't help but chuckle a little as he grabs his empty plate and leans forward to peck richie's growing stubble of a beard before he slides away from the table to go get some desert. richie gets up as well and follows him in there, away from everyone else, and he sets his plate down next to the cheesecake on the counter and goes to grab a slice. he puts an unoccupied hand against the small of stanley's back, getting close enough to the boy so he can kiss him on the lips softly. "i'm proud of you," he motions to the cleared plate next to his own with a bit of a smile on his face. he's finally starting to eat again, probably since he'd finally figured out who he really loves and the fact that he's happy. "your pants finally fit," he takes a step back to look at his bottom and his thighs covered by his ripped jeans, exposing only a bit of the pale skin. "nice ass, by the way."

"thanks, rich," stanley murmurs with a rose-tinted face. he groans as richie pinches his side and then ventures back into the dining room to take his respectable seat once again. that leaves richie to just stand and smile to himself in the kitchen, so in love it's absolutely insane, until autumn comes in and smacks him upside the head to draw him out of his trance.

-

just as everybody is getting their jackets and winter boots on to go sit in their cars and wait for everyone to be done so they can start to drive to the light show a couple of miles away, stanley pulls richie aside and into the room they've been staying in. richie obviously follows, with a curious expression on his face, and he gets shushed before he can even ask what's happening. 

"i have a little something for you, too," the boy tells him, fishes through the duffel bag he'd set in the empty closet, looking for something. richie sits down on the floor behind him, legs crossed, waiting for his surprise. "this obviously doesn't matter anymore, and isn't a surprise," he hands him an entire stack of letters, wrapped up in envelopes with the dates on them, leading all the way back to the beginning of december. he crawls into richie's lap and turns to face him with a nervous smile on his face. "once i got you for secret santa i just started writing how i feel about you, i confessed some things you already know now, and i wrote every day until i finally got twenty five and now you have them. i was gonna give one to you everyday but all that shit went down and i forgot. but i hope you like it anyway."

richie tugs his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from just grinning cheek to cheek at him, and he diverts his attention from the letters to stanley's beautiful face. "i had a feeling it was you," he responds. "that one night you were sick, i was looking for any clothes that would fit me because i didn't wanna sleep in jeans, and you had some of these on your desk. i didn't read them, but i saw my name on them and was thinking you were gonna give me them like, for the twelve days of christmas, but i gave up hope because you never did," he tells him. he sets them aside carefully so he can use both his arms to coop stanley up in them, nuzzling his nose into the top of his head. "thank you, baby," he murmurs into his curls, that he's trying not to mess up because he's going to be yelled at it he moves a curl the slightest bit. 

the younger boy just hums into richie's jacket and then smiles goofily at him when they pull away. he leans forward so richie can kiss him for the third time that day, and then he tilts his head to mumble nonchalantly in his ear. "if you can manage to pick up some champagne on our way back, i might let you get in my pants tonight."

and richie has never thought about champagne so much in his life until that night.

-

cookie stays still in stanley's arms as him and richie get their picture taken in front of one of the glowing light structures along the trails of the park. it looks like a winter wonderland, and richie would say it's stunning but it's not half as gorgeous as the boy he has his arms around right now. never in a million years will he think anybody is prettier than stan, not until they have children, at least. he finds himself smiling just thinking about a mini stan running around the house. 

the honey-haired boy sets the dog back down and hands the leash off to holly, who takes it with a thank-you and then skips off to another light statue down the sidewalk. richie takes a look around at all the people walking through crowds with their children and their grandparents and their significant others, in awe of all the pretty lights stringing through trees, creating objects and blinking and flashing while people ooh and awh at them. he reaches into his jacket pocket as he leans forward to whisper in stanley's ear, ignoring the stares of impatient children waiting to get their picture taken. "don't freak out, but i have something in my pocket right now and i'm gonna get down on one knee, and ask you to marry me, but i can promise you it's not a wedding ring," he informs him, and stanley looks at him with wide eyes and one eyebrow quirked, a smile playing on the both of their lips. 

the raven-haired man takes stanley's hand in his own and presses his lips against his soft, cold skin while he slowly lowers himself to be on one knee. all of his family members gasp, as do a bunch of people standing around once they notice something important is going on. autumn and holly both scream, which disturbs the sleepy baby in the stroller next to them. "stanley evan uris," he starts to speak, and stanley bites his lip and presses his tongue against his cheek so he doesn't laugh. "i remember falling in love with you back in middle school, when i still hadn't gone through puberty and you did and you got so pretty, i seriously was so jealous of you or anyone else that got to talk to you, for that matter. i don't want to sit here and ramble because i'm wasting everyone's time here but stan, i love you more than everything and i want to spend the rest of my life with you," he takes out the velvet box from his pocket and flips it open to reveal a shiny promise ring, a good-quality one, too. if you were to look at it, and nobody would've told you it was only a promise ring, you'd probably believe it was a wedding ring. stanley finds himself wondering where the hell he got all this money from to get him all of this stuff. "will you marry me?" he asks, still holding onto his hand, a hopeful smile on his face that stanley will even accept the promise ring. 

against his beliefs, the boy above him nods rapidly and bursts out giggling, letting richie slip the ring on his ring finger, which will be tangled in richie's tufts of hair later that night, as they dry-hump each other through their boxers like a bunch of horny high-schoolers, while santa baby plays on his bluetooth to drown out any of their noises. they wrap their arms around each other while everyone starts to cheer and clap, ignoring a handful of rude comments from the older folks around them. stanley cups both richie's pink-dusted cheeks in his hands and kisses him on the lips again, for longer this time. richie's mom is taking more pictures of them kissing, just like she'd done for their first kiss only days ago, making sure to get the fancy ring in frame this time, contrasting against the pale boy's pink-ish skin and glimmering in all of the lights sparkling around them. 

"he said yes!" richie exclaims toward everyone that has their attention on the couple. they cheer again and then the whole family walks away from the people, going somewhere more private so they can converse and congratulate richie and stanley for their faux marriage. they think it's real, though, and that's all that matters. 

they take a selfie together with stanley holding his hand up in front of both of their beaming faces, showing off the ring, and send it to their group chat with all of their friends in it. we're engaged! :) they send afterward. it's quite honestly surprising how dumb their friends are to believe they just randomly got engaged two weeks after stanley's terrible breakup. 

"i feel bad that i didn't get you more gifts," stanley pouts in the car on the drive home, with richie's unoccupied hand holding his thigh, keeping his leg warm. the bottle of champagne is bagged up in the back seat, buckled in with a seatbelt so it won't shatter or spill anywhere. 

richie shakes his head and turns the radio down a bit so they can speak to each other, smiling as it's playing all i want for christmas is you again, like the first time they'd arrived at his parent's house. "shut up, i loved it," he grumbles, because he did indeed love his gift and wouldn't trade it for anything else. "'m gonna read them when we get back to derry, or maybe you can read them to me on the ride home."

the boy in the passenger seat ponders for a second and then puts his hand over richie's. "i'll make it up to you as soon as we get to your room," he chuckles a little.

"you're lucky i can't pull over right now."

stan is also lucky he's where he is right now, 'engaged to be married' to richie tozier, the man who'd stood up for him whenever his boyfriend was causing him troubles, who made sure he was okay every single second of the day, and who spent all his money to give him the best christmas of his life. and it really was the best. not even amnesia would make him forget this season. december twenty-fifth has got to be his favorite day of the year now, all because of his secret santa. 

the end:)


End file.
